Grace
by Zarabethe
Summary: Grace: Noun. Archaic: To be granted a reprieve. A death knight with a tortured past and a priest coming in to her own try to make sense of what it is to be alive, and what it is to love. This is a sequel to Mercy.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: One more time, this is a sequel to Mercy. If you have not read it, you will be confused!**

**Thank you for your support and love for Mercy. I present to you the long-awaited sequel, Grace. This one will hopefully be longer than Mercy and keep you satisfied a bit longer :). For now I will alternate updates on Grace and Scepter. I can't promise one a week, as the holiday season is upon us, but as much as humanly possible. For now, enjoy!**

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White blossoms framed by red painted wooden structures. The air thick with cloying perfume and exotic undertones. An occasional fresh breeze that chilled the humidity gathered on your bare skin. If Maerciless had to describe Spring in Pandaria in one word, the first one that would come to mind would be beautiful, followed shortly by peaceful. In the deepest parts of its wilderness, quiet, and untouched. Here in its most populated town, the atmosphere was nearly buoyant. To the unbothered soul, it might seem to be the most perfect place on Azeroth. Maerciless shifted on the bamboo stool, scratching an arc into the dirt with her hoof. It was an obvious mark on otherwise well-cared for landscaping, and for a moment she rubbed at it with the edge of her hoof, trying to smooth it flat again. Her administrations in vain, she settled for covering the majority of it. Everything was so overwhelmingly perfect here, so full of life, it seemed no matter what she did, it was somehow infringing on that perfection.

The disaster that was the campaign of Serpent's Heart was several months ago, but the land still suffered for it. The natives picked up their steps as they scurried into the paved beauty of the town proper, and were reluctant to leave the relative safety of its walls. Trade suffered between the small clusters of communities, and the Pandaren were more likely to don armor or take a guard to travel. But even in the midst of what was surely a devastating blow, the Pandaren people seemed determined to take it all in stride. Maerciless watched the owner of a nearby food cart unfurl his banner with a flourish, and carefully set out a tray of free samples. She had observed this same vendor many times as the season had eased into the humidity of spring, and she knew he was a friendly boisterous man who would just as soon join you in a mug of beer and feed you for free from his cart, just to hear your stories of the road, than to charge you a copper for a meal. She twisted her mouth minutely: only one who knew her well would recognize the expression of humor on her otherwise stoic face. She wondered how the portly Pandaren could afford to keep his business open at all.

She let her gaze sweep slowly along the perimeter of the open courtyard. She was sure he operated the same way most of his fellow kinsman seemed to: through the kindness and giving nature of the Pandaren folk. Her penetrating blue eyes slid comfortably from one kind, rotund face to another as the natives gathered around the unmarked pathways of the main thoroughfare of the town of Dawn's Blossom. Even the name of their busiest city gave off a sense of beauty and hope. When she had arrived on the newly discovered southern continent, she had been leery of the altruistic attitude that draped the idyllic atmosphere like a thick fog. Surely a race that spent this much time concerned with others and keeping peace had something horrible to hide.

Maerciless's eyes focused on a smudge of peat across the top of her hoof, and she leaned down to scrub it off. The soil was rich and dark, and left a black streak across her leather glove. On impulse, she glanced up and over her shoulder at the mid-morning sky. It was lit with beautiful tones of deep, jewel blue and flickers of soft puffy clouds, but the seemingly perfect sky did not extend across her entire vision. She sat back up, leaning casually against the stone half-wall that ran behind where she sat and skirted most of the border of the marketplace. In a way, she had been right: the Pandaren people had something horrible to hide. Something that the encroaching armies of the Horde and Alliance had wakened from its slumber.

If one were to take a moment and admire the intense sapphire sky that seemed to grace Pandaria nearly every morning, one might notice that as you looked to the south, there was a portion of the sky that seemed not quite right. At first glance it looked like a storm cloud, although one that was abnormally stationary and circular. The longer one looked at it, however, you would notice little details that added to its strangeness: the cloud was not perfectly still, but swirled and circled in on itself, almost like a hurricane, but very calmly: there was no obvious wind blowing the jungle trees around. The cloud was off-color: not bloated with rain, or grey with snow, or big and puffy like a cluster of clouds sprawled across a lazy midsummer sky. The cloud, and in fact the entire sky in that area, was drained of color. It would be at this point, perhaps, that one would stand on tiptoe and try to get a good look at the land beneath the weather phenomenon. Here the strangeness of the region was pronounced: like the sky above, the land itself was in greyscale, as if everything that made an ecosystem thrive had been sucked dry of life. If you squinted, you just make out a dark crater in the center of the discoloration. The land directly around it was streaked grey and black, and even now, months after the explosion that had destroyed the Shrine of the Jade Serpent and set free the monstrous being known as the Sha, smoke rose out of the ground in a poisonous stench.

Maerciless examined the dark smear of dirt on her leather glove. Although the idea of imprisoning a creature by inactivity, almost by pretending it wasn't there, was a foolish plan in her head, she did understand the Pandaren's obsession with keeping their inner darkness away. The Pandaren people took a spreading, inky stain, and instead of cleansing it away, they threw a rug over it. They moved furniture on top of it. They covered it with more and more things until they did it without being aware of it, then when the rugs and the furniture was ripped away, the stain had spread and soaked in to an impossible level. And now it was time to scour the carpet and start anew, with a weightier view on life.

The death knight was brought out of her brooding thoughts by a crescendo in the noise that had been gathering in the marketplace. The sellers' stalls were packed tightly together now, filling up every available space. Maerciless sat up a little straighter on the bamboo stool she had drug to the very edge of the pagoda. The squat chair belonged to the pandaren woman who ran the open-air diner that occupied the apex of the marketplace. She was there now, greeting customers as she leaned on an old straw broom. She caught site of Maerciless on her missing stool, and her features stiffened up, although her generous smile stayed plastered in place. Maerciless raised one gloved hand in a lazy salute in her direction. Li Shao snorted once and nodded her head. Technically, the chair and the death knight perched on it remained on her property, and she did take care to order at least a cup of tea every day, so she was a paying customer. Li was distrustful of all the newcomers in her town, but especially of the ones that shouldn't be up and walking anymore. She tolerated the death knight's presence only because she kept quiet and did absolutely nothing to call attention to herself.

Although Li Shao appeared to only own the diner in town, the truth of the matter was that the enterprising Pandaren had her paw in every business in the area. She bought her vegetables from the farmers that frequented the marketplace, and they in turn made sure to grow the produce she required. The older ladies of the village gathered under her pagoda in mid-afternoon to enjoy a half-priced cup of tea and engage with Li in the art of town gossip. Li always knew the right word to whisper in an ear or the right paw to slip a coin into. She was well-respected, well-liked, and a bit feared. No one wanted to be on the bad side of Li Shao.

All of that wasn't of much interest to the death knight, except that the other townsfolk seemed to follow the matriarch's lead in their treatment of the unliving. It was difficult for Maerciless to find someone to repair her armor, and she suspected the food that she ordered came from the bottom of the pot. She took it in stride though. She was used to not being wanted.

A small commotion shifted the direction of the crowd from the far right entrance to the city, and grateful to be away from her thoughts, Maerciless stood to investigate. She rested her hand loosely on the pommel of her runesword as she walked, partially to remind the Pandaren people of her status as their guard, and partially to remind herself to focus on her business here. Absently she pulled down on the bottom of her breastplate to straighten it: it had been difficult for her to find a native willing to even speak to her about blacksmith work, and harder still to find one that would work with dark saronite. The results were adequate, although a little different style than she was used to, and the straps were stiff and tended to shift when she had been sitting awhile. For a moment she pined for her old, ruined armor: although she had acquired it just before the break from the Lich King, and she had already committed many atrocities in it before she was set free, it was perfectly molded to her shape, and she wore it like a second set of skin. There had been no salvaging it after the explosion though, and she had willingly given it to the Pandaren blacksmith to be melted down and made into the new piece. It would have to do for now. She wasn't sure when the Alliance would be done occupying this continent and she would be transferred elsewhere.

The crowd in front her shuffled and parted with many inconvenienced noises. Maerciless relaxed her grip on her sword. The commotion was nothing more than a unit of the Silver Hand traveling through town. As a one they all held themselves tall and majestic atop their armored mounts. Automatically she scrutinized every helmed face, and although there were several with the familiar blue-toned skin and horns arching back from high foreheads, her former partner was not among them. Feeling a little lost, the death knight stood to the side as the contingent slowly made its way through town. Near the back of the group, one human paladin gave her a double glance. She was shorter and a bit more disheveled than the other riders, and Maerciless wracked her brain to remember her name. The paladin's lip curled in a sneer just as the death knight remembered: Seraphyna, Aeschlie's friend in the Silver Hand.

"Out of the way, corpse," Seraphyna growled at her under her breath, purposely leading her mount close enough to the death knight to make the horse skittish. Maerciless stood her ground, and trained her blue eyes on the human as she passed. As soon as the campaign at Serpent's Heart had ended, Aeschlie had requested immediate transfer back to the mainland. Maerciless had heard about it second hand, and there was no real explanation given, only that the devastation of the Jade Serpent Shrine had "gotten to her". Seraphyna seemed to think that the death knight had something to do with it, and had gone out of her way to be hostile to her whenever she was passing through Dawn's Blossom. Maerciless's gaze followed the paladin unit as it passed through the opposite gate, out of the city proper. The obvious malevolence from her own allies was not unnoticed among the pandaren people, and it did not help their disposition toward her. Maerciless moodily knocked the mud off her hooves and retreated under the edge of the pagoda to escape whatever attention she had attracted.

A circular bamboo hat caught her as eye as the owner bobbed her way through the crowd in the marketplace. Unconsciously Maerciless stood up straighter and the petulance melted away from her expression. The hat bowed its way past the mid-morning shoppers and navigated in the direction of one of the Alliance tents set up along the side of the courtyard. The bamboo hat was no different than any other one worn by the many patrons in the marketplace, but the owner of this particular hat stood taller than the pandaren, and the hat sat slightly lopsided on her head, as if it were made for someone of a different profile. A small gust of wind tipped the hat back off of her head, and Maerciless caught a glimpse of Shirelle's flustered face as she made an floundering grab for it and ultimately lost it behind her. The death knight was several paces into the crowd before she realized she had even moved, and she made herself stop and watch as the priest recovered the bamboo hat from the ground and shoved it forcefully on her head. Shirelle caught sight of the the draenei standing awkwardly at the edge of the crowd and gave her a shy smile and wave, before turning and maneuvering her way to the healer's tent.

Maerciless was sure if she still had the ability, her face would be flushed scarlet. She blew the air out of her nose, then turned and stalked towards the edge of town to make a sweep of the perimeter. She had to stop doing that. She knew she had a ridiculous over-protective nature. It had become a real problem between her and Aeschlie, even before she had been captured and turned. There were so few people that she trusted, and even fewer she cared about, that she went to ridiculous lengths to assure their safety. Right after she had been released from the hold of the Lich King, her mind was in such a turmoil that she had hyper focused on protecting Aeschlie, and it had kept her inner monster under control. In fact, giving up some of that focus was part of what contributed to her eroding mental state before the Battle of the Jade Serpent. After she had been saved by Shirelle in the aftermath, she no longer felt like she was barely holding a terrible monster in check, but somehow she had transferred that extreme vigilance over to the priest.

Maerciless angrily kicked at a bush as she headed to the southern gate of the city. It was a hat. She did not need to dash in and rescue Shirelle from dropping her hat. At least it was obvious from the look on the priest's face that she was confused at the death knight's actions. That ridiculous hat. Maerciless slowed as she passed through the arch that marked the edge of town. A pair of armored Pandaren guards, called Dawn Watchers, nodded their heads at her as she passed. She had been stationed in Dawn's Blossom for several months now, and even if she was not exactly welcome, she was familiar.

Shirelle's healing abilities had grown since the battle, and she had remained dedicating to helping others, rather than being in the midst of the patches of ongoing fighting. She was happy to be stationed at Dawn's Blossom, and she, along with the other healers, had set up a med tent in the center of the marketplace so they could treat anyone who needed it, and maybe prove their good intentions to the natives in the process. Shirelle was overly concerned with trying to win over the Pandaren, hence the bamboo hat. Maerciless had tried to gently point out the obvious racial differences that the hat didn't hide at all, but the priest could be quite stubborn in her own right. She wore the hat nearly every day, and although she was quickly gaining popularity among the city inhabitants, the death knight was sure that was due to her compassionate nature and skillful healing, rather than anything she did to try and fit in.

The draenei turned from the path and started a circuit around the border of the city. That was another reason to keep her distance from the priest. Thus far, Shirelle had been one of the few soldiers who had been accepted into the Pandaren community, and she didn't want to jeopardize that, either from a military viewpoint, or a personal one. She was certain that if the natives knew of the true nature of their relationship, they would shun Shirelle just as they did her. Maerciless shook her head and ran a hand through her unruly black hair as she approached the western gate. Not that she was completely positive what the true nature of their relationship even was.

Maerciless had stopped walking and was so lost in thought that by the time she realized that someone was shouting behind her, they had already done so twice.

"Help! Please!" Instantly on alert and cursing her distraction, the death knight ran toward the noise just as three young pandaren tumbled out of the underbrush. One girl, an older one, was pulling a younger boy along by his underarms. She was the one crying: the boy appeared to be unconscious, or at least Maerciless hoped. The other girl, shorter but bossier, was the one yelling for help. She spotted their rescuer just as the death knight reached the group, and her mouth dropped open in fear. Maerciless made herself slow down; for all these children knew she was just as much of a threat as what had attacked them. She kept her hands open in front of her as she knelt down to their level.

"What happened?" Maerciless asked the oldest girl. She appeared to be too distraught to wonder if the death knight was friendly or not.

"It's my brother, Len," she gasped through her tears. She sat down abruptly in the grass and held the boy's head in her lap. Maerciless could see exhaustion through the terror on her face, as if adrenaline alone had given her strength to carry her brother this far. She felt along his neck, hoping that pandaren were built along the same lines as the other races of Azeroth. She was rewarded with a faint heartbeat under her fingers. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, which was encouraging, but on his legs were deep scratches that looked like claw marks. Whether he was knocked unconscious or just fainted, he needed medical attention.

Maerciless took off her light cloak and laid it over the boy. "Were you attacked by an animal?"

"The Jade Witch sent her cats after him!" The older girl's voice rose in hysteria as she spoke. Her green eyes were wide with fear as she implored the death knight. "Me and Len and An and Shin went down to the Jade Witch's place and she tried to kill us! You have to help him!"

Maerciless tucked the cloak around the boy and picked him up, cradling him awkwardly against her breastplate. He was lighter than she imagined, about the size of a gnome. She turned to his older sister.

"Run ahead and tell the guards we are coming, and that we need a healer." The pandaren girl sniffled loudly and dashed off in the direction of the city. Maerciless started to follow when she felt a tug at her arm.

"Wait!"

She looked down to see the smaller girl standing behind her. Her pink flowered tunic was smudged with dirt, but she had a stubborn look on her face. "My best friend Shin was taken by the Jade Witch. I know you're not one of us, and Granny Shao says you're not natural, but I need your help. Widow Greenpaw turns cubs into jade, we saw the statues!"

Maerciless raised her eyebrow at the child's description, but otherwise ignored it. "I have to get this boy to Dawn's Blossom first. He needs a healer."

The girl's eyes filled with tears. "But I was the one who made Shin go! He was too scared to go, but I dared him, and then he had to. It's my fault the Jade Witch has him!"

Maerciless felt the desperation and determination rolling off the girl in waves. It was likely, that if she did not help her, than she would return to the jungle alone and possibly meet her death. She looked the girl square in the eye. "What is your name?"

She sniffed back her tears. "An Windfur."

"An, we must take this boy to town first, but as soon as he is safe, I will go find your friend. Can you be brave and show me the way to the Jade Witch's house?"

An wiped her nose with her sleeve and pulled herself up straight and tall. "Yes ma'am, I remember the way."

Maerciless nodded her head. "I will find your friend and bring him back safely."

The guards met them halfway to the western gate, with Shirelle and another priest trailing behind. The draenei caught her breath as she saw the state of the pandaren child, but a quick check of his eyes and head seemed to relieve her.

"His leg wounds are bad, but he doesn't seem to have any head injuries." Shirelle's eyes were all business. "Can you bring him up to the infirmary?"

Maerciless shook her head, and instead handed the boy over. The other draenei caught him easily, and gently cradled his head against her shoulder. "There is another cub trapped in the woods, I am going to recover him. This little girl is going to show me where."

"Yes ma'am," the girl cub said solemnly.

Shirelle gave her an odd look, meeting her eyes and then off to the side. Maerciless got the feeling she was avoiding her gaze.

"Wait here a minute." She carefully handed the boy off to the other priest. "Jayne, please take him back to the infirmary and clean up his legs. Tell Healer Tellaron I'm going along on the rescue mission."

Maerciless opened her mouth, but Shirelle was already speaking quickly to override her protest. "If this cub was so badly injured, the other might be worse. You'll need my help."

The death knight pressed her mouth into a line, but turned to An, who was bouncing on her toes with impatience.

"Lead the way."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: The Widow Greenpaw Questline was one of the big stand-out ones from Mists of Pandaria for me. It had a bit of a horror value to it: you knew somewhat how it was going to play out, but you were powerless to do anything but go through the motions of the quest. The Widow herself was a very tragic character: much more complex than the normal evil villian. She was driven mad by the loss of her husband, and maybe somewhere deep inside, she was just trying to make her family whole again. **

**Comments: Sorry for moving so slowly on this one. It's so exhausting to write Maerc and Shir: they never joke around or lighten the mood, everything's so serious. Now that the holidays are over and I'm getting my writing groove back on, it should be easier though :). Thanks for reading!**

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Was the pot boiling? Was the tea ready? There would be guests coming soon, yes...after the littlest cub in her garden. He was such a beautiful thing, really: adorned in a little red vest and the biggest blue-green eyes. She and Gao always had a fondness for that eye color: vacillating between the blue of the sky and the green of the forest. It was such a pity that during his stay, the cub was restricted to the color of pure jade. Lana would always remember the colors he came in though: she remembered every single one. The browns and tans of the hozen. The beautiful prints on tunics and kimonos of her kin. The striking hair colors of the strangers that had found their way to her lately. Bright orange beards! Amazing! They may be green now, but she would not forget their brilliance.

After checking the pot over the fire, Lana left it to its devices and strolled outside to her garden. Her beautiful garden, the one she filled with visitors to keep watch over her beloved Gao. She fondly patted one on the head as she rounded the corner. She had Gao had always wanted a big family. Their greatest joy was their friends and their little ones. But then the war had come, and Gao had begun his training. He made the most accomplished soldier, of course: brave, talented, strong. It was only natural that he discover the ancient art of what would be called the Jade Strike. Oh her heart, how magnificent he was!

There he stood now, in his shrine in the middle of the garden. Preserved forever in the substance that gave him his power, and eventually stole him from her. She brushed her fingers over the plaque that adorned his statue, and felt her heart clench painfully.

_Behold Master Greenpaw, known throughout the lands as the Jade Fist Monk._

_Through skill, determination, and chi, he mastered the form known now as the dreaded Jade Strike, a blow that would transmute foes into statues of jade._

_It was his heroism and sacrifice that saved the Jade Forest in a time of great need, and his like is not to be seen in this world again._

_May this statue forever stand as a reminder of the price of peace, and may his sacrifice never be forgotten._

Heroic, yes: her husband was without a doubt a hero. Her pain turned to anger as she read through the plaque. Sacrifice. Saving the Jade Forest. What could any of the others know of sacrifice? Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She was the one who had been sacrificed. Their future had been sacrificed. She laid a paw atop Gao's carefully preserved foot, the only part of him she could reach in this ridiculous statue of him. His outline was blurry through her tears, smudging reality until she could almost imagine that this was some other man, someone else that had given his life in battle, and that her dear husband, the true war hero, was simply waiting for her inside by the fire.

Movement rustled by her feet and something hard like stone, yet somehow alive, rubbed against her ankle. She leaned down to pet the jade kitten. It bumped its head against her paw, craving attention. Lana smiled. It was only natural for it to be drawn to her. A person resisted being alone in any way that they could. She looked up into Gao's dear, stoic face: she had been so worried for his loneliness. She herself was terrified of being alone, but at least she could leave the house, seek out others if she really wanted to. Even if everyone except her sister Li shied away from her, they were still there. But Gao could not leave. He only had her, and she still had the limitations of the living. She had to eat and sleep, and eventually she would be gone from this realm entirely. Who would keep her dear husband, the celebrated war hero, yet quickly forgotten, company here in his garden?

What came naturally to her husband came through years of blood, sweat, and tears to his widowed love. At times she feared the spells and rituals had addled her mind. But as long as she had the memory of Gao and her determination, she kept going. Her precious jade kittens had been the result of some of her first experiments. But now the process came easily to her. Lana gazed around the garden with pride. Now they would never be alone. Slowly she had built a statuary of friends and family around them. Beautiful innocent cubs to brighten her old age, fierce warriors to trade war stories with, rotund friendly females to gossip with, and even a smattering of otherworldly creatures to keep them entertained. While she had been digging in old magic, she found ways to prolong her own life as well. She would some day still depart from this world, but at least she knew her husband would never be left alone.

Lana brushed an errant dead leaf off of the new cub's head. He was a scrappy young thing, but she was inordinately fond of him. She smiled brightly at him, ignoring the panic at the edge of his huge eyes and how he had his hands thrown up to protect himself. Yes, he was her new favorite.

There was a tingling up her old spine, and she turned her head and listened carefully before striding quickly to the entry of the hut. It was time to check on the tea. Her visitors were here_._

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It was the third root that Shirelle stumbled over that she admitted to herself how much she missed her staff. In the lull of fighting during her duties in the pandaren city, the priest had taken up training with one of the local monks on how to defend herself physically from an attack. It was a new skill, one that she was barely comfortable with, and she didn't even think to grab her novice staff from where it leaned against the side of the infirmary tent. Her medical satchel that never left her side, yes, but not the weapon that she hardly knew and wasn't even sure she condoned. She was a healer, and since she had landed in Pandaria, even with the multiple battles she had seen, she was still loathe to cause harm to others in any way. But for a trek into the deep woods, a walking stick would have been welcome.

Shirelle caught a glimpse of the pandaren child's pink flowered tunic as she scrambled through the woods ahead of them. An Windfur had not faltered once as she led the two draenei to the den of the person she claimed had captured her friend. Like the adults in Dawn's Blossom, she was already displaying the fierce loyalty and compassion of her race, and Shirelle admired her for it. She pushed a branch out of the way and tried to ignore the possibility that there might be spiders in it waiting to skitter down her sleeves. She quickened her pace, trying to catch up to Maerciless, who threaded her way sinuously through the trees. The death knight seemed to have no problem keeping up with the native girl, who probably traveled these woods every day. In spite of her fitted plate armor and her immense runesword, she as always traveled with a shadowy sort of grace that Shirelle envied. Another dead branch caught at her woolen robe and Shirelle shook it violently as she tried not to fall further behind. She was never graceful. She excelled at jobs that one did not have to worry where one put one's clutzy hooves, where she had all her components and healing implements laid out within reach. Clattering through the underbrush or charging across a battlefield, attempting to keep up with the soldiers, nearly always landed her on her backside in the mud.

Shirelle was so pre-occupied trying to remove forest debris from her robe that she ran right into the back of Maerciless, who was crouched down next to An. The death knight grabbed her arm to steady her, and to her embarrassment Shirelle blushed furiously.

"Thank you," she stammered out. She tried to draw attention away from her face by folding up the hem of her robe and bending down to inspect it for twigs. She managed to catch the end of what the pandaren girl was saying.

"There's the entrance to the maze. It's enchanted: you can't mark your way through because the paths change. But she wants you to come to her: all the paths lead to her house. It's getting out that's hard."

An Windfur was wringing her paws as she stared through the break in the trees. Shirelle followed her gaze and saw what at first appeared to be a solid wall of green occupying the clearing. The more she studied it she realized it was made of a mixture of jade and dense bushes, and barely visible at the edge was a path inside. There was a flash of movement from inside the jade labyrinth, more green inside a sea of veridian. Shirelle felt chill. There were things that lived in that maze, and at least one of them had the terrible claws that scratched that little boy.

The leaves rustled around An Windfur. She had led them this far without faltering, but it was apparent that entering the labyrinth would be too much. The pandaren girl was shaking like a leaf and her eyes were huge as she stared at the green wall in front of them. Shirelle knelt down in front of her and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"You don't have to go in there, An. You were very brave to bring us this far. Why don't you run back to Dawn's Blossom and wait for us there?" An's face was a picture of indecision. Maerciless nodded her agreement.

"We will find Shin and bring him home. You have done well," she added in her husky voice. An's face broke into relief. Without a word the cub disappeared into the brush behind them.

Shirelle regarded the labyrinth before them warily. She couldn't imagine what sort of horrors were encased within its hedge rows that would cause such fright in a child. She had heard of many strange and sometimes terrible things that lived in the heart of the forest. Giant snakes that were bigger than a male Pandaren but silent as they moved, statues of ancient demons that sometimes came to life, wood sprites that did not take kindly to intruders. Shirelle wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.

Her attention was caught by a thrashing sound nearby. Her breath caught in her throat and she turned just in time to see Maerciless yank a length of bamboo free from its sisters. She took out a dagger and cut it to her height, then smoothed the ends. Shirelle was confused until the death knight tossed the stick her way, briefly meeting her eyes with her intense blue ones. Shirelle fumbled for it awkwardly.

"You left without your staff." Maerciless nodded in her direction. "Now you will be able to defend yourself." Her eyes captured hers for a moment, and the hard look on the death knight's face smoothed away. It wasn't quite a happy expression, but Shirelle couldn't help but smile at her in return. It wasn't very often that the death knight's face was left unguarded, and she felt lucky every time that she got to see it. Shirelle opened her mouth to thank her for the make-shift staff, when the other draenei suddenly cringed. It was minute, but when she straightened up, her face closed off again. She turned abruptly and headed to the edge of the tree line. Shirelle gripped the staff and followed after, ignoring the leaves catching at her robe.

_What was that?_

Maerciless did not pause, but continued right up to the green wall in front of them. Shirelle caught up just as the death knight stepped through the opening of the maze. Shirelle panicked a moment as the sea of veridian seemed to swallow her up, but she followed close behind and the death knight came into view again. She was a few paces away, examining the jade wall with one gloved hand. Shirelle let out a shaky breath. There was definitely magic at work here, and she got the feeling if she did not keep Maerciless in her view at all times, she would be lost to her.

"This is not a normal hedge," the death knight glanced her way to make sure she had followed. Shirelle stepped forward as she drew her runesword. Maerciless prodded the bush with it. The tip sunk into the hedge with no resistance, but when she pulled it back out the hole disappeared and the hedge rustled in front of her, almost indignantly. "I don't think we'll be able to cut our way through. We'll have to go about it the intended way."

"You mean we'll have to solve the maze?" Shirelle drew closer to the death knight, until she felt the tell-tale drop in temperature that followed her everywhere. If she stayed in the frost death knight's aura of cold, then she wouldn't get lost. Maerciless looked at her sidelong as she sheathed her runesword again. Her face was unreadable, but it was obvious some kind of emotion was struggling beneath the surface. She turned her face forward along the path before she spoke.

"An said the maze was not difficult. It shouldn't take long." Maerciless started down the first corridor, and Shirelle hurried to keep her in sight.

* * *

Maerciless kept all her senses on full alert as they progressed down the first corridor. The air in the maze was similar to that of the forest outside, but thicker somehow; the more she breathed it in, the harder it was to catch a breath. It seemed as if every aspect of this maze was designed to confuse the mind more than entangle the body. Not to incapacitate, but just enough to throw your sense of direction off. The death knight didn't like it at all: she preferred to stride right into battle with no subterfuge, taking the enemy surprise by her skill with a sword, not by hiding and skulking behind trees. She liked to have all her targets before her at once. The closeness of the hedge rows and the walls of jade felt like being trapped, and it set her on edge.

The priest kept right on her heels behind her, and it didn't help with her feelings of claustrophobia. She didn't mind keeping Shirelle close: in fact, they hadn't dared to pass any closer than an acquaintance might in months. They had started off their placement in Dawn's Blossom busy, and had stayed that way. Even if they had not, they were foreigners in a strange land, and discretion was always prudent in an unknown situation. Even though there were days when her loneliness was near unbearable, and she would risk everything to simply sit, hands entwined, and talk quietly to each other late into the night, Maerciless would not chance Shirelle's reputation. A whispered sentence here and there, or a quick embrace in the shadow of a tent, was all they dared manage at this point.

She slowed her pace as they approached the first turn in the path. She flexed her gloved hand on the pommel of her runesword thoughtfully and nearly elbowed Shirelle in the face. She held her other hand out and stopped, furrowing her brow at the priest, who pulled up just shy of running into her.

"Are you frightened?" she inquired. "You are nearly trodding on my hooves."

The other draenei gripped her make-shift staff tightly and looked very interested in the dirt clinging to the bottom of her robe. "Earlier, when you went into the maze ahead of me, you disappeared from sight. I think it is one of the wards in the maze, to confuse those entering it." She straightened and her timid gaze met hers. "I don't want us to get separated. I don't know if I can find my way out."

Maerciless nodded thoughtfully, and held out her hand. "I won't lose you."

Shirelle took it, and for a moment her face was alight with her smile. The death knight started to return it, then was startled by a twinge from her chest, where her scar resided. She pressed her other palm flat against her breastplate. The same thing had happened when she had given Shirelle the bamboo staff outside. It wasn't painful, just strange. It felt like a nerve ending waking up. She shook her head a bit to clear it.

"Are you okay?" Shirelle lost her hesitation and peered into her eyes with concern. Maerciless leaned back from her penetrating stare, dropping her hand. She was not interested in being probed about her health right now; they had a maze to decipher and a cub to rescue.

"Yes." she said sternly, and drawing her sword, she rounded the first corner. The entire path was obscured by a filmy, pale green mist. Automatically she covered her nose with one hand, but she didn't feel ill or sleepy. Maybe it was a creature that concealed itself with mist. She took a couple of cautious steps forward, leading the way with the tip of her sword. She pressed close to one wall of whatever this building was. Where was she again? It didn't seem to matter that much, at least not as much as finding the source of the mist and killing it. She heard a rustling step behind her and froze, trying to pinpoint where it came from. The fog seemed to get into her ears, making it harder to hear and think.

"Maerciless?" A tremulous voice cut through the mist only a few steps behind her. She spun around, sword at ready. She didn't care how scared the creature sounded, or what nonsense words it was spewing forth, she knew that she had to stop it, and get out of this fog.

"Maerciless, where are you?" it said, a little closer now. Completely unnerved by the fog that made it impossible to see or sense, Maerciless charged forward, runesword held high. She caught only a flash of wide, silver eyes against pale blue skin before she brought the sword down in a powerful arch intended to cleave the creature in two. The sword rebounded off of a solid wall, the momentum throwing her backwards and the runesword out of her grip. The creature cried out in surprise. Maerciless instinctively threw a wave of frost magic back from her towards it. It was not a well-planned strike, and it went a little wild, engulfing the entire corridor with frost. The green mist crystallized and fell useless to the ground.

Maerciless sat up, completely disoriented. Automatically she reached for the sword on the ground behind her. The corridor was clear, both of confusing mist and of any attacking creature. She got to her feet slowly, trying to pull her mind back together. Had she forgotten where she was? It shook her how quickly and completely she had been overtaken by an environmental agent. A faint groan came from the direction they had been traveling from and she felt sick in the pit of her stomach. If the mist had gotten into her mind and made her forget where she was, then the creature she had been attacking... Maerciless hit the ground running and was both horrified and relieved to find Shirelle leaning against the wall opposite her, rubbing the back of her head. She let her sword drop beside her, fear in her throat as she reached for her hand. The weapon clattered mutely onto the ground and Shirelle's eyes snapped up. Her hooves scraped the ground as she tried to back away from her, her eyes wild when she realized she had no where to go. It tore through Maerciless' heart to see her fear.

"No, no, it's okay, it's me," she said, grabbing the priest's shoulders and trying to reassure her. Shirelle was still fighting to get away from her attacker, and kicked out, impacting her jaw with her hoof. There was some strength behind it, and Maerciless let go of her in surprise. Shirelle threw herself away, grabbing her fallen staff and scrambling to her feet. She brandished it at the death knight, and she looked for all the world like a fighter, with her weapon held in front of her, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, and a fierce look on her face. Maerciless held her hands up and pleaded with her.

"Shirelle, it's me. I am not fighting you." She had already thrown down her sword, and she added her dagger to the pile. "Look, I am unarmed." Doubt began to seep into Shirelle's eyes and she reached up to her face and wiped the blood from it, looking down at her hand in surprise, as if she hadn't realized she'd been bleeding. Cautiously, Maerciless got to her feet and stepped toward her. Shirelle let her take the staff from her tense grip and lean it against the wall beside her. The priest watched her warily as she put her gloved hands on her shoulders.

"I am so sorry." Maerciless felt like she should explain, but she didn't even know where to begin. Mind control spells were usually all but useless against the steel mind of the unliving, and yet it had taken seconds for her to seamlessly turn on the priest. It was a kind of magic she had never experienced before, and it completely unnerved her. She couldn't fight what she didn't know.

"The mist confused me, I didn't know who you were," she finished weakly. Shirelle's shoulders relaxed minutely and she reached back to feel the back of her head. Maerciless suddenly realized that the front of her robe and her hair was covered with a light dusting of frost. She brushed some of it off her shoulders, furious with herself. The priest finally spoke quietly.

"I shielded myself before I entered the mist. It must not have affected me." She took a deep breath seemed to pull herself together, shaking her robe to remove the frost from it. She caught the death knight's eyes with a shaky smile. "Remind me to never challenge you to a duel, because I lost terribly."

Maerciless rubbed her sore jaw thoughtfully. "You got one good hit in."

The smile dropped from Shirelle's face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, I was just trying to get away."

The death knight looked at her penitent face in astonishment. "Shirelle, I just tried to kill you. If you hadn't had your shield up, I would have succeeded." She removed her glove, and used her bare hand to gently wipe the smudge of red from the other draenei's mouth. "The only person that needs to apologize here is me."

Shirelle looked slightly embarrassed. "I just bit my lip when I hit the wall. It's okay."

Maerciless pulled the priest to her and wrapped both her arms around her. She closed her eyes, and for a moment all she would feel was her warmth, their hearts beating together, Shirelle's breath on her cheek. She was so selfish to desire her closeness after she had just attacked her, and she could feel the guilt clawing at her insides as she held her close. Rising up within her was an answering emotion to her inner turmoil: an irresistible recklessness. She wanted to draw as close as possible to the fire that was Shirelle, and be burned.

"I've missed you."

Maerciless felt the soft sigh against her cheek as Shirelle returned the embrace. "I've missed you too. And it really is okay, I know you were not yourself."

Maerciless was shaking her head before she finished speaking. Reluctantly she released her and stepped back.

"No, it isn't. If I were a better person, I would keep myself away from you." She took the crude bamboo staff from where it leaned against the wall and handed it back to its owner. She retrieved her own weapons and armed herself again against the dangers of the maze. Last of all, she donned her black leather gloves: whether to protect her hands from the elements, or to protect others from her chill skin, it didn't matter. She caught Shirelle's eyes with her own impenetrable gaze.

"I've never been a good person though."


End file.
